


Final Solstice

by WinterSorceress



Series: Tales of the Solstice [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dragon Hanzo Shimada, Gen, Young Hanzo Shimada, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSorceress/pseuds/WinterSorceress
Summary: A week after the murder of his little brother, Hanzo decides to take the clan into his own hands, and just in time for his solstice transformation.





	Final Solstice

**Author's Note:**

> Another piece dealing with my lore headcanon, which is, in short, that the Shimadas go through a yearly transformation, during which they are driven to hunt to fulfill a blood offering to their dragon spirits. Tonight is the Summer Solstice, which is when I decided Hanzo's transformation takes place (Genji's is in the Winter). In order to celebrate, I wrote a short, indulgent (and shitty) piece about his last hunt in Hanamura.

It had been exactly one week since he had committed the most atrocious crime of his life. He had once naively believed that there was nothing that could possibly be off-limit for the Shimada clan, nothing too dark nor sinister. They were, after all, a clan of assassins, of ninjas, and they ruled their kingdom with blade and bow alike. Yet, now he knew, with opened eyes, what they truly were:

            _Murderers._

            That was what Hanzo saw of himself now. The eldest Shimada scarcely knew why he woke himself up in the mornings, the glory of the sunrise now somehow dull and lacking. Yet something still drove him to carry on, though he did so with waning energy.

            It was almost cruel timing. Aggression and bloodlust strummed through his veins, yet he was far from motivated to do anything about it. The summer solstice was swiftly approaching, the night he would transform to sate his spirit dragons, like he had done every year as long as he could remember. It was a mandatory tradition carried on through the generations. His father had hunted like his father before him. Hanzo would do the same for the rest of his life, at least until his own children took control of the clan.

            Just like Genji would’ve done.

            Day after day, Hanzo had asked himself the same question. Did he make the right decision by obeying the elders? The answer seemed blaringly obvious. One must always listen to those wiser in their years. It wasn’t so simple in reality, not so black and white. Despite his obedience and initial conviction, he couldn’t even glance at a single one of his father’s portraits in fear of looking him in the eye.

            Deep down, he knew he didn’t have the right.

            By the time the Summer Solstice arrived, his dragons growled softly in his very core, and his heart echoed their fury, their desire for blood. However, it was not merely the drive to fulfill the offering that fueled him. He prowled the corridors of the Shimada Castle with a new purpose, a new goal all his own. He had made yet another decision, but this time, there was no doubt to be found in his mind, in his heart.

            No one met him on his journey, no one dared. As the moon peeked above the horizon, to bathe the district of Hanamura in its silver light, the clan’s servants and guests hid away. The bloodlust of the solstice did not discriminate. Man, animal, friend, foe, it did not matter. They were prey. Only the non-organic and fellow Shimada were safe from their instinct to kill.

            But not tonight.

            Already, Hanzo’s senses were enhanced. Even on the topmost floor of their estate, he could smell the sweet cherry trees, their fallen blossoms fluttering in the night breeze. His eyes tracked the movement of every shadow he passed, his body and mind tense and ready. The insects sung loudly in the warmth and solitude of the darkness, but he strained to hear something more.

            The elders were gathered, no doubt to watch the eldest Shimada soar through the Hanamura skies once more. They chatted idly, arrogantly. They mourned not for his little brother, whose blood had been spilled on their command, by their will and wisdom. Hanzo had always thought he had saw all, that he would always know what would be the best for the clan, for his family. More than ever, he now knew how blind he had been. Corruption and greed had stained their legacy, not Genji, but there was no fixing what had been broken, recovering what had been lost.

            He could only pursue justice, vengeance. It was not what Genji would’ve wanted nor their father. Yet, it was all that could be done.

            Night closed around the castle and he drew ever closer, footsteps silent and calculated. Energy grew within, inhuman and otherworldly, so much so that he had to restrain himself from transforming right then and there. Instead, he breathed deeply, steeling himself.

            The old men started in the cool air when the door swung open gently. An instinctive fear flashed across their features. Then they remembered themselves.

            “Oh, good evening, Hanzo. A glorious night, is it not? Perfect for the occasion.”

            “I...We expected you to transform elsewhere. This is quite a surprise.”

            “Indeed, though it has been too long since we’ve seen it with our own eyes. Such a noble gesture, giving us a front row seat like this.”

            Hanzo had suspected it would be harder than this, to stand before them with such intentions. Yet, more than ever, he felt at peace. His dragons roared quietly within him, ready and waiting with surprising patience. It was as if they too felt certainty in this.

            “Of course, my esteemed ones,” he murmured evenly. Standing in the moonlight that flooded the balcony, he could sense the spirits yearning more than ever to merge with his own. “Though I’m afraid I won’t have to travel far tonight. You might miss the view.”

            With those final words, prompting the elders into confusion, Hanzo closed his eyes. He inhaled sharply as he at last allowed the transformation to take place, the power spreading from his core to engulf him in a divine light. It was a familiar surge in strength, in primal instinct, his human decency and consciousness temporary washed away. In moments, his soft bipedal form was shaped into something more by the will of his dragons.

            Faintly, he was aware of his audience’s murmurs of awe and wonder, before he once again opened his eyes to the world around him. As always, the transition was nothing more than a prolonged flash of light, discreet yet magnificent to behold. It was a show of ancestral might that was easy to disguise in a pinch, perfected by generations of assassins. In the past, they had set their own bloodlust upon on their enemies and high-profile targets, but their new leader had a different idea this night.

            Growing accustomed to his new skin, Hanzo shook his scaly hide in lazy satisfaction. A trio of claws on each powerful leg flexed against the pristine stone at his feet. A night gust brushed through his mane, coaxing him to breathe in the cooling breeze, exposing his fangs to glint in the moon like a promise, a threat, a reminder.

            The eldest Shimada was now a hunter, in the truest sense, and he had his prey in his sights. Deliberately, his fiery gaze zeroed in on the group of old men, who had all too instinctively huddled together. By the looks on their faces, abruptly pale and nervous, he knew they were starting to catch on, judging from his lack of urgency to take off into the night on top of his prior words.

            He had no more to give them, and he would not waste his breath on them even if he could. Though, he was curious what theirs would be, as they pleaded for their lives. Like their lack of mercy for his brother, they too would receive none.

            With a deafening roar, Hanzo lunged. He took solace in the knowledge his dragons would be well sated on empty souls that deserved nothing more than his fangs tearing through their twisted bodies. It was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the shitty ending. I'm really tired and I have work in the morning, so toddles.


End file.
